


Come as you are, as you were, as I want you to be

by sullacat



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M, Mirror Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-10
Updated: 2011-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-17 22:11:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/181764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sullacat/pseuds/sullacat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You’re a f**king tart, Jim Kirk,” he heard in his ear, head shoved against the wall. “Thought I’d worked that out of you."</p><p>Jim wonders what's worse - belonging to Leonard McCoy or being without him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come as you are, as you were, as I want you to be

**Author's Note:**

> Dubious consent of the mirror-verse variety. Written for the Livejournal [KM_Anthology](http://community.livejournal.com/km_anthology/) for the prompt 'come marking'. Title courtesy of Nirvana.
> 
> For entertainment purposes only. No infringement intended.

It was very late one evening (or early one morning, depending on your point of view) when Jim strolled into the Captain’s Quarters. As the door closed behind Jim his eyes adjusted to the dim light and he paused, hearing the shifting sounds behind him. Assassination attempts weren’t common, but not unexpected either on board a star ship, and in any other circumstance he’d be half a second from turning around, his hand on his weapon and aimed at the intruder.

But this late-night guest’s heavy breathing pattern was familiar enough that he felt safe walking in the dark to his closet, removing his shirt and tossing it on the ground. “You gonna say something, or just stand there?” Jim finally asked in a tired voice, sitting on his bed and taking off his boots.

From the dark the voice spoke. “Where you been?”

Jim didn’t answer. Bones knew where he’d been that evening. Dinner planet-side with the High Council of Cobir IV. And if one of the more beautiful members of the council invited him to stay a bit longer for drinks and dessert - who was he to say ‘no’ to a round or two of ‘vigorous negotiations’ to further the interests of the Empire?

McCoy walked toward him. “I said-”

“I heard what you said,” Jim muttered, standing to unfasten his pants. "Are you gonna just stand there or you gonna take off your-"

But before he could get the next word out Jim felt himself pushed against the wall, trapped by his pants bunched at his knees.

“You’re a fucking tart, Jim Kirk,” he heard in his ear, head shoved against the wall. “Thought I’d worked that out of you.”

So it was gonna be rough tonight. “Fuck off, Bones... “

"I can smell her on you," Bones growled as he nosed the back of Jim's hair, his hands grasping tight on Jim's shoulder. Then Jim felt a wet tongue licking at the back of his neck, and suddenly he was sixteen again, turning tricks in a back alley in Des Moines. Pushing back against Bones, he found he couldn’t move, and wondered for a second if Bones had done something, given him something to immobilize him.

Better to think that than the cold realization that he just fucking liked it like this, the tough cocky captain wanted his doctor to fuck him like an animal, like a piece of meat. Kept them from getting to close, that’s what Jim told himself, as he heard Bones panting, undoing his pants.

Then the hard knob of Bones' cock suddenly pressed against Jim's ass, and Jim wondered if the man was just going to stick it in him dry like that, some sort of punishment for fucking around. But that sweet burn never came, just the constant pressure, the feel of a thick cock rutting against Jim's ass, spreading the cheeks and sliding between them. Hot breath at Jim's neck, the scent of bourbon and smoke, louder and raspier with each moment that passed. Jim’s cock ached for touch, the friction of being pressed against the wall agonizing so he reached down to grasp hold of himself. But Bones slapped his hand away, restraining Jim’s arms with each rough thrust against the wall.

All of a sudden the thrusting stopped. “Knees,” Bones growled out, pushing down hard on Jim’s head with one hand while he tugged at his cock with the other, pulling it so hard Jim thought it might rip off. Jim fell hard on his knees, his eyes level with Bones’ scrotum, and he leaned forward, licking and sucking at that heavy sac, fuck Leonard McCoy. “Now -oh fuck, oh god fuck Jim-” Bones groaned loud as he came, bracing against the wall as he spurted his come all over Jim’s face, his chin, a few driblets falling warm onto his chest. “Oh- oh...” Bones’ face grimaced, almost pained, like the pleasure was being torn from him as he fell down on the floor next to Jim. For a moment, always at _this moment_ his hazel eyes were warmer, as they took in the sight of each other.

Bones brought his hands up to cup Jim’s face, large thumbs carefully stroking Jim’s cheekbones and staring into his eyes before kissing his face softly. Bones’ tongue was warm and wet, kitten soft, lapping away at the spunk all over Jim’s face, cleaning off most of the mess, and ending in a messy, open-mouthed groaning kiss that took Jim’s breath away. This - _this_ was the confusing part. Being fucked raw against a wall made sense to Jim, but _this shit_ messed with his head.

Jim felt himself being pulled forward into that kiss, and his fingers tightened in Bones’ hair, that small act of control reminding him that he could have Bones tossed out of an airlock if he wanted to, that Jim Kirk was the one really in charge.

But apparently Bones wasn’t done with him tonight. One finger dragged along Jim’s cheek, smearing a streak of come from Jim’s ear to his chin. “Leave that there,” Bones whispered. “No washing, no cleaning up, nothin’.”

Bones stood up, fastening his pants with a sense of finality, that moment of warmth not quite gone. “If that’s still there when I come back here tonight, then things’ll be just fine between us. If its not, or if you’re not here,” Bones hesitated a fraction of a second, “- well then I’ll not be botherin’ you anymore.” With that, Bones turned and headed out the door.

Jim sat there, back against the wall and stared as the door closed behind McCoy. This was fucked up, he thought for the thousandth time since this thing began between them. Jim didn’t know why he didn’t just take out his phaser and shoot the fucking doctor in the back and be done with this dysfunctional shit they were both playing at. Jim didn’t need McCoy. He needed to get his ass back to work, needed to keep his mind in the game or it would get them both killed.

Last thing he needed was to worry about some backwater redneck who just happened to punch every sexual kink Jim owned. Hundreds of people had wandered in and out of Jim's bed through his life but only one had ever gotten under his skin, this asshole from Georgia.

Pike had seen something in McCoy, enough to pull Leonard out of that minimum-level state prison he’d been left to rot in. Convicted of the murder of the man who drove his drunk ass into a tree, killing the passengers in his car - McCoy's ex-wife and daughter, McCoy supposedly walked into the Atlanta hospital to see 'his patient' and simply turned off the life support to the comatose man and left. The authorities picked him up an hour later in his office, still treating his patients.

Jim inherited McCoy, found him both competent and mouthy. He put Bones in the agony box only once, after he’d gotten a bit flippant in front of the bridge crew. The man had stood there like a stone, the only pain being shown in his eyes, focused on Jim until he left, unable to watch any longer. Why Bones’ pain bothered him he didn’t want to think about, he only knew it didn’t feel good to watch him hurt.

That night was the first night Jim visited the CMO's room, entered it with his personal code and climbed into the doctor’s bed. First time he let anyone fuck him senseless since he took command the year before. Bones didn’t let him down, fucking him with a brutal hunger that left them both aching.

Something kept them tied together after that, more than a mutual understanding that they could help each other. Bones could have killed him a hundred times easily, would have been the smart thing to do - yet here Jim was, relatively safe and healthier than he’d been his entire life.

That was why Jim kept him, he told himself.. Two people a captain had to trust was the XO and the CMO.

Jim owned one, his tame pet Vulcan and apparently belonged to the other... and that is why he fell into his bed unwashed, stinking, leaving the come smeared on his face.

 

The day started busy and only got worse. Spock’s nostrils flared twice during their morning briefing in the turbo lift, his dark eyes resting on the dried streak on Jim’s face. Jim couldn't tell if the look on Spock's face was disgust or... if he was intrigued.

Jim filed that away for future reference.

He went about his business as if there was nothing wrong, and if anyone noticed that the captain smelled a little more robust than normal, or that he had dried spunk on his face - well, Jim found that eyes might well and truly be the windows to the fucking souls because the eyes of his crew told him everything. The dozen or so who smirked or glinted when they talked with their captain immediately went onto a new list inside his head for future reference - away mission fodder when needed. Others, like Uhura, who clearly noticed but continued on as usual, showing Jim his due respect - they would make up his command crew for the next decade.

Jim caught his reflection that afternoon while changing out of his uniform and into gym clothes. His bright blue eyes focused on the shiny streak of dried come still visible on his cheek, flaking but still there - and yet, it didn't make him feel ashamed. If anything, he saw it now as a mark of possession.

Jim’s possession of _his_ doctor.

By the time Jim made it back to his room he'd had a productive and busy day and managed a decent work-out afterward. That, combined with his inability to shower the previous night meant that Jim was pretty rank.

Or, as Bones put it - "Captain, you smell like a whorehouse," he’d announced as he entered Jim’s room. But Bones couldn't hide the pleasure in his eyes at the sight of his come still on Jim's face.

Jim chuckled to himself. Interesting analogy. People bought whores. Did he own Leonard McCoy? Did McCoy think he owned Jim? "Get your ass in the shower, doc."

The scalding hot water felt good, but the man behind him felt better. Bones' hands slid all over him, washing him, almost caressing him, worshiping Jim's muscles with his fingertips. So fucking gentle when he wanted to be... Jim wondered what went through that thick Georgia skull, why Bones was here following him around space when he clearly didn't like it.

Jim went to sleep that night feeling very much in control of the situation. Another person might have thought otherwise, had they seen Jim take it up the ass like he did, hard and rough. But the low whine Bones’ made, the fucking look in his eyes when they finished... Jim knew Bones wasn’t going anywhere, no matter what the fuck Jim did.

Deep in his heart, Jim Kirk knew that he owned Leonard McCoy, body and soul.


End file.
